


What holds, may harm

by SolarisRasa



Series: Sol's Malec Whumptober 2020 [9]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Magnuscentric, Memory Loss, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27038968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarisRasa/pseuds/SolarisRasa
Summary: DAY 10. Alt 9. Memory Loss&No 11. PSYCH 101Defiance | Struggling | Crying.When Shadowhunter's come for him Magnus manages to get away but as his mind settles the blood on his hands becomes a new nightmare.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Sol's Malec Whumptober 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953454
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	What holds, may harm

**Author's Note:**

> Days 10 and 11-day 10 alt prompt "Memory Loss" because frick.

Magnus caught himself as he lurched through the portal. He’d gone the only place he could think of through the fear pouding through him and the wet grass sunk under his hands as he landed. The faded green in the moonlight of Ragnor’s sprawling front lawn did little to bring down his heart rate.

Ragnor was  _ gone,  _ but Magnus had not been in a state, or the company, to think of anywhere else. He sat back on his ankles, breathing in harshly. The shadowhunters at his door would no doubt have alerted the Clave already that they’d been unsuccessful. Magnus had no idea what he’d done to warrant their arrival, if anything, but he knew the Clave was unlikely to give up.

He’d had no warning so going to ground would be a little worse this time than normal. He took a moment to send a frantic hope that Chairman Meow and the cats that stopped by the loft for cream would be alright. He doubted the nephilim enforcers would take notice of them.

He rubbed his wrists where the dark-haired archer had held him tightly. 

Magnus frowned slowly, realizing that he wasn’t bruised. Outside of the marks he’d made himself, backing into the pillar in his attempt to escape the four shadowhunters at his door had hurt a bit, he was unharmed. 

It had terrified him but the longer he thought, as he calmed some, the more it occurred to him that not one of them had really tried to harm him. The archer hadn’t drawn his bow, had clutched at him, certainly, but not in a way Magnus would have expected.

He wiped his red hand on the grass, hoping the dark stain of nephilim blood would leave him. He’d left the archer, wide eyed, bleeding on the floor. Magnus was usually better about these things, but he’d been disoriented in the aftermath of a spell mishap and the intrusion had been unexpected, his wards hadn’t-

_ There was a light knock on the door and Magnus turned, blinking in confusion as the world seemed to move in slow motion. He didn’t call out or move to answer but the door opened anyway, revealing four shadowhunters, weapons strapped to their legs, a bow on the leaders back.  _

_ The leader's hands, tight around his wrists, stopping his magic as they crowded around him. Magnus twisting, kicking out and screaming as he tried to fight. The archer snapping something at the others that Magnus was too afraid to comprehend, then looking at him and demanding to know...to know. _

_ “Magnus, what’s wrong?” _

_ Magnus freeing a hand enough to cast fire and shove his burning fingers into the archer’s chest, feeling his blood coating the flame, extinguishing it even as he cried out in pain. The blonde at his side falling to his knees, gasping. _

_ Then Magnus was scrabbling away, locking eyes briefly with the red-head, ignoring the others, “You won’t have me.” _

Magnus blinked. Pieces started slotting together in his jumbled mind.

Ragnor was dead because...Clary Fray had inadvertently led Valentine to him, nearly two years ago.

His wards didn’t warn him or stop the shadowhunters because he knew them.

He didn’t realize because the spell had taken some of his memory, only the last few years had scrambled but it was enough.

The archer he’d hurt in his attempt to get away, the one he was almost certain was fatally wounded was-

Magnus threw up in the damp grass, what serenity the English countryside might have offered him vanishing in a torrent of  _ fear. _

Alec. His Alexander. 

The blood on his hand seemed to burn into his skin and he stared at it, tears welling as he gathered himself enough to make another portal.

He hesitated, magic burning at his fingertips. 

What would he find? What would he do if he’d-

He shook himself, whatever would come, would come. He created a portal, set his jaw, and went through.


End file.
